


heaven's only wishful

by papertulips



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Multi, Please read notes for warnings, Threesome - M/M/M, be gay do crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27013495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papertulips/pseuds/papertulips
Summary: He thinks of the money that he owes, the men he owes it to that will now kill him no matter if he delivers it or not. His mom who will call tomorrow morning to ask if he’s had a meal because it’s a Sunday and she knows that he’s always out of money by the end of the week. His brother that’s sipping on wine whose name Atsumu can’t even pronounce or fucking his wife in the penthouse of a hotel where a room for one night costs more than his monthly rent. Of broken dreams and promises made in the heat of the moment. Of two strange men sitting in a car that’s not even his own who are now the only ones that he has in this entire world.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Oikawa Tooru, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi/Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 124





	heaven's only wishful

**Author's Note:**

> hey, warnings: mentions of suicide, implied abuse, mentions of blood  
> i swear it's not as bad as it sounds but i don't know what could badly affect someone, so i thought it would be good to put this here! 
> 
> this work was inspired by triple H' 365 fresh mv. the quote is from grimes' idoru. hope u enjoy this was a ride whew

_"Choose," I say, as my fingers tremble,_

_“This is what I am.”_

_And you, fingers trembling too,_

_Understand._

_i._

Atsumu takes slow, easy steps as he approaches two girls sitting by the bar, sipping on their pink drinks with melting ice cubes clattering against the glass. The ones that have a price higher than the poor excuse for a breakfast he manages to have every day. Issei notices him from behind the bar, but he knows Atsumu hasn't come for a drink here in a long time, and that won't happen today, either.

The girls don't manage to notice him as he comes closer, but he can almost feel the claws tugging on the hem of his shirt, hear the sound of hurried soles against the cold concrete.

“Are you two having fun tonight?” A sly grin, a hand that rests on the sleek wood, just enough inches away from the girl’s back but so close to the keys of her car sitting prettily in the dark parking lot of the dirty bar. The rich haven’t always been the most enlightened ones, nor have they known their place. The corner of Atsumu’s mouth tugs up almost mockingly.

“Not anymore.”

Atsumu juts his lower lip out, tilting his head at the girl who rolls her eyes at him. Her friend seems to lean into the backrest of her chair more which earns her a sigh of disapproval from the other.

"Well, I guess I'll have to leave the two of you alone then."

"Who said we wanted you to leave?"

Atsumu loves this part.

The girl who seems to see right through him pulls her friend in to whisper something in a quite aggressive tone. Atsumu's eyes search for Issei, and when he finds him, he is already shaking his head at him. Atsumu only grins as he sneaks his middle finger through the metallic ring of a teddy bear keychain. Issei rolls his eyes but still pretends to be busy with the dishes.

“Miya!” A strident voice tears through the rock song quietly playing in the corner of the room. Atsumu takes it as his cue to wave the girls goodbye and head through the back exit.

Girls jump off of their stools when they notice the keys missing next to a leather purse, but before they manage to cross the room, a horde of men dressed in ripped clothes, with bats and large metal sticks in their hands appear through the entrance.

Once Atsumu steps onto the parking lot, he notices there are only a few cars parked, which certainly goes in his favor. He presses the button on the key and sees yellow blinkers going off in the far left corner.

He can hear the glass shattering and screams coming from the bar behind him, and he politely apologizes to all the people inside for causing a commotion as he drives through the dark alleyway and toward the main road.

On the console lies an open package of gummy bears and Atsumu laughs delightedly as he puts a fistful into his mouth. He tries not to feel bad about the car and the owner who was certainly interested in him, only for Atsumu to make such a fool out of her. Her dad will definitely get her another one, but Atsumu can’t guarantee that people always manage to get over him easily.

His phone rings not even a minute after, and he answers before even checking who it is. Only one person calls him these days.

"Next time I see your ass in my bar I'm making you pay for all the damage you've caused me in the past year. That fucker Daishou that's been looking for you busted my lip."

"That must look hot on you," Atsumu says, almost forgets to take the turn as he laughs at Issei cursing at him through the speaker. "But whatever, I don't think you'll be seeing me in a long time. I fucked up really bad."

Issei sighs and Atsumu can imagine the face he makes, the disappointed but concerned one. He wishes this man didn't care for him as much as he did. Atsumu certainly doesn't deserve it.

"I'll miss your pretty face." It sounds strangely endearing, but it's what they all say before Atsumu leaves.

"I'm sorry for the mess. I hope we can meet again."

"So do I. Bye, Atsumu."

He hangs up before he lets his heart say something he will regret.

Just as he’s about to make a right and finally get into the center of the city, a boy appears in the middle of the street, and he stops to look at Atsumu as if he’s uncertain whether he wants to be hit by a car or not. Atsumu raises an eyebrow as he waves at him to move from the street, but the latter keeps blankly staring at him.

In any other situation, Atsumu would’ve honked and cursed at him, but he’s not trying to attract any attention tonight, at least not until he manages to escape this city that haunts him.

He watches with narrowed eyes as the guy makes his way to the car and knocks a few times against the window of the passenger seat. Atsumu opens it just enough for him to speak.

“Take me with you. Please.”

Atsumu almost drives off without bothering for a response, but then he hears the screech of tires against concrete that spell his name in a threatening tone.

“Shit. Get in. Quick!”

The motor roars as Atsumu flees through the empty streets. The boy next to him fastens his seatbelt; it's black against the blood on his shirt.

“Is someone chasing you?” His voice is faint, almost fragile. 

“I’ll tell you if you tell me where you got all that blood from.”

The latter looks down at his shirt as if he has completely forgotten about it, but the speed at which his eyes flicker back to the road is a tacit answer to Atsumu.

The silence stretches between them and suddenly, Atsumu feels uncomfortable. The guy in his car fidgets and Atsumu speeds up enough not to hear the violent beating of the latter’s heart against his chest. What the hell did this one do?

“What’s your name?”

“Why do you care?”

“Listen, I’m not gonna sell you out to the cops or whatever that’s running through that pretty head of yours. I’m just askin’, that’s all.”

“Oikawa Tooru. And there’s nothing you could tell the police about me.”

“Sure,” Atsumu laughs, “I’m Miya Atsumu. What are you running from?”

“Nothing… for now.”

The quiet night gives him a false sense of comfort. Atsumu doesn’t ask Tooru where he wants to go, neither of them knows nothing more than to recognize each other as two runaways.

“Stop! Stop!”

Atsumu hits the brake even before he manages to see what made Tooru yell like that, his eyes that previously got stuck on the buildings flying past him shoot wide open as he looks at the road in front of him.

“Someone jumped in front of the car,” Tooru says, slamming the door shut after he steps out onto the street.

Do it. Drive away. Leave them here. Punishment could be just five minutes away, they are coming for you.

“What the fuck were you thinking, you absolute fucking moron!” Atsumu yells until a vein pops out on his temple. Tooru cups the guy’s face, softly shaking him as if that will bring him to his senses.

“Move.” Atsumu pushes Tooru’s shoulder away before he straddles the man laying on the ground and lets his fist collide with the latter’s jaw. It feels like a cold beer in the middle of a hot summer day. “God, what’s wrong with you people? Jumping in front of my fucking car and shit. Dammit!”

Tooru tears him away just as the guy’s nose starts to bleed and Atsumu laughs proudly as he lets himself be dragged over the street. If he leaves the guy here, someone will call the police and check the cameras on the street. The last thing he needs is to be chased by the police, as well.

“I think he tried to kill himself.”

“He’s probably just drunk. That's how everyone is these days.”

Tooru faces him and Atsumu can barely tolerate the heaviness of his gaze on him.

"What do you mean?"

"We avoid being sober, we drown in the worlds that don't exist. But you know, can't blame any of us when our reality looks like this."

The night isn’t young anymore when Atsumu makes sure one last time that he’s not being followed and gets on the highway that leads out of the city. After he drives past the last few houses sitting lonely in the outskirts of Tokyo his shoulders drop and he finally rests his nape against the headrest.

“I think he passed out.”

Atsumu hums.

“You have any money with you?”

Tooru pulls the pocket of his jeans inside-out until a few paper bills fall out, but that seems to be the end of it. It’s still better than the empty wallet Atsumu carries in his pocket.

“I’ll stop at a gas station, and you go grab some water. I’m dying.”

“In this shirt... Are you sure?”

“I’ll give you my jacket.”

A few minutes later, Atsumu watches as Tooru unbuttons his shirt, letting it drop off of his shoulders. He folds it neatly like it won’t end up burning in a dumpster as soon as Atsumu spots one. There are almost healed cuts across his back, and an imprint of fingertips on his bicep.

“Miya-san,” Tooru says, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah,” Atsumu takes off his jean jacket, and Tooru puts it on hurriedly. “Be quick.”

Tooru nods before he steps out, glancing back at the car every few steps he makes as if he’s afraid that Atsumu will leave without him.

“Hey, dick, wake up,” Atsumu says as he reaches out to shake the guy sleeping across the backseat. He can only see dark strands of hair spilling over pale, blood-covered skin. His lower lip trembles like he’s trying to talk in his sleep.

Atsumu exhales slowly through his nose as he turns around, pinching the bridge of his nose like it’s a button to wipe all of his troubles away.

He thinks of the money that he owes, the men he owes it to that will now kill him no matter if he delivers it or not. His mom who will call tomorrow morning to ask if he’s had a meal because it’s a Sunday and she knows that he’s always out of money by the end of the week. His brother that’s sipping on wine whose name Atsumu can’t even pronounce or fucking his wife in the penthouse of a hotel where a room for one night costs more than his monthly rent. Of broken dreams and promises made in the heat of the moment. Of two strange men sitting in a car that’s not even his own who are now the only ones that he has in this entire world.

_ii._

They have just enough money to get a room with a single bed in a lonely motel by the road at least two hours away from Tokyo. The lady at the reception stares at the guy Atsumu and Tooru carry on their shoulders as if she’s trying so hard not to ask any questions or call the police.

“You hungry?” Atsumu asks as they drop the man onto the floor next to the bed. Tooru throws himself on it and moans as he cracks his joints and sinks into the soft mattress.

“I want to sleep.”

Atsumu lies next to Tooru, pulling a pack of cigarettes and, from his back pocket, a wallet that he throws across the room.

“Don’t sleep just yet.”

Atsumu is tired of solitude.

Tooru opens his eyes to look at Atsumu, and he doesn’t comment, just takes off his boots before he moves up on the bed until his back is comfortably resting on one of the pillows.

“How old are you, Miya-san?”

Atsumu inhales the first cloud of smoke as he lights the cigarette on, letting it curl familiarly in his lungs.

“Twenty-three. And you can call me Atsumu.”

People call his brother Miya. Atsumu hasn’t exactly proven to be worthy of carrying his father’s name.

“I’m older,” Tooru chuckles, “Twenty-five.”

Atsumu smiles, holding the cigarette in front of Tooru’s lips. He parts them hesitantly, and Atsumu almost teases Tooru because he doesn’t inhale it, just lets it linger behind his teeth for a few moments before blowing it out.

“You go to college or something?”

“I dropped out.”

“Well shit. At least you tried.”

That makes Tooru laugh. Atsumu lights another cigarette right after he flicks the first one through the opened window by Tooru’s side of the bed.

“And you? What do you do?”

“Whatever gets me money. As you can see, some paychecks I do regret, though.”

Tooru nods as if he understands, but he probably doesn’t know what it is like to do dirty jobs that barely bring three meals to the table every single day of the month after you had grown up as a child with many ambitions bigger than any skyscraper in Tokyo. But he does seem to know a thing or two about regrets.

Tooru sits up to pull on the sleeves of Atsumu’s jacket and throw it over the headboard. He lies back against the white sheets and Atsumu lets his eyes roam over the pained skin stretching over tight muscles. Tooru doesn't ask what he's running from, so Atsumu doesn't give himself the right to be curious, either.

“You into sports?”

Tooru hums. “I used to play volleyball back in high school. I don’t, anymore, but I kept the habit of working out and, you know, staying active.”

“I can see that.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Sorry,” Atsumu says, eyes averting to the ceiling of their shared room. The paint has turned grey in the corners. “Will it kill you? Whatever that made you jump in front of my car like that.”

Tooru pulls on his earlobe with his trembling fingers. Atsumu can only wish to know all the thoughts that run through his head.

“I’m not sure. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Atsumu nods as if he understands, just like Tooru did earlier, but he doesn’t really. It still feels like they are there for each other more than anyone else has ever been.

“I wonder what he’s running from,” Atsumu says and they both look at the stranger sleeping soundly on the floor. Maybe he’s dead.

“Himself,” Tooru replies, “I saw it in his eyes when he was conscious for those two seconds before you started beating him. He was hopeless. His chances of survival aren’t any higher than ours.”

“Well, guess each other is all we have now. And we might as well flee the country at this point.”

Tooru laughs, head dropping on Atsumu’s shoulder.

“We barely have enough money for a night at this crappy hotel, though.”

Atsumu’s fingers graze the skin on Tooru’s hip, just above the waistband of his black ripped jeans.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I know how to pull out bills from the vending machine and just how often careless idiots leave the door of their room unlocked to get some stuff from the market across the street.”

Tooru’s laugh is muffled by the fabric of Atsumu’s shirt.

“Well, out of all the people I could’ve ended up with tonight, I’m glad it was you, Atsumu-san. You seem to be good at this.”

Atsumu grins smugly. “It isn’t exactly the first time I’m being chased by a gang. I’ve got some experience over the years.”

“I see. Thank you, really. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you left me there.”

“Don’t think about that. I didn’t leave you. I wouldn’t have.”

Tooru lets Atsumu smoke in silence and minutes feel like hours and Atsumu’s fingers on his skin like gentle feathers caressing him as if he’s something beautiful and sacred.

“Hey, you know what’s a good thing about this? Tomorrow we can grab some cash and get the fuck out of here. Maybe drive all the way to Yokohama or even Kyoto after that. We can be whatever the hell we want to then. Get whatever we wish for.”

“It’s like being born all over again. Tabula rasa and stuff.”

“Yeah, whatever that means. So, tell me, what is it that you want to do?”

Tooru takes another drag from Atsumu’s cigarette, and this time, when he exhales it, it isn’t into the darkness of the small room, but into Atsumu’s welcoming mouth. Atsumu’s head is light when he finishes off the last cigarette and pulls Tooru in with a hand on his nape.

Tooru tastes like the first day of spring under Atsumu’s tongue. His skin is as soft as rose petals and his nails dig into Atsumu’s back like thorns. Atsumu pushes himself off of the mattress to coax Tooru’s mouth open, to grip his waist while he cups his jaw gently with his other hand.

“Wait,” Tooru whispers, leaning back to look up Atsumu with wide eyes, the moonlight casting a beautiful shadow of his eyelashes over flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to do this in front of him.”

Atsumu turns his head to examine the guy on the floor, the only sign of life he gives is the slow heaving of his chest.

“Right. Okay.”

He gets off of Tooru and moves to his respective side of the bed, raising his feet in the air to untie his shoelaces and kick his sneakers onto the floor.

“Fuck,” Tooru spits out, and when Atsumu glances at him, he is turning his back to him, uttering a Good night as he buries his head in the pillow, fingers tugging on his hair in despair.

Atsumu is awakened by the sting he feels when two fingers pinch the skin of his bicep. Atsumu-san, a voice whispers. He cracks open an eye to slowly get used to the sunlight coming through the window.

He sees Tooru, sitting up on the bed, hand resting over his arm.

“He woke up,” he says but doesn’t dare look back at the room.

Atsumu rubs his eyes and everything is blurry for a few moments before he sees the guy he hit last night, hovering over the foot of the bed, a pocket pistol in his hand.

“Oh, shit.”

“Did you kidnap me?”

“What? No! You jumped in front of my car, dude. You’re lucky I didn’t leave you on the street.”

The stranger tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowed the entire time as he sizes up Atsumu who raises to his elbows. It’s not exactly the first time a gun has been pointed at him. And it’s not like he has much to lose at this point, anyway.

“You left me to sleep on the floor even though there was enough space on the bed. Do you know how disgusting that is?”

“There wasn’t a point during last night when we were one hundred percent sure you were alive.”

Atsumu elbows Tooru in the ribs for that but still chuckles.

“Listen, put that gun down so we can go get some money and leave this ratty place, alright?”

The man’s lips are pressed into a thin line. “Where are we going?”

“Yokohama.”

He exhales deeply, tucking the gun in the waistband of his jeans and covering it up with his hoodie.

“Good. I don’t want to see Tokyo ever again.”

Atsumu throws a suitcase into the trunk as Tooru eyes him suspiciously through the window.

Atsumu waves a leather wallet in his face when he enters the car. The man, whose name they learn to be Sakusa Kiyoomi, sits grumpily in the backseat as if he and Tooru raced for the shotgun.

“Rich men come here to sleep with their mistresses. Their biggest fear is their wife finding out they’re fucking around so they don’t spend much time worrying about locking doors or thieves.”

“What’d he bring the suitcase for, though?”

Atsumu smiles. “Probably told his wife he’s going on a business trip in Europe.”

Tooru makes a disgusted face but takes the wallet from Atsumu to count the bills inside.

“Now I don’t feel bad that we stole from him,” Tooru says, throwing it onto the dashboard, then raising his feet onto it.

“It’s not okay to steal from anyone in any situation,” Kiyoomi says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s always okay to steal from the rich,” Atsumu adds and Kiyoomi rolls his eyes.

It’s a hot May day, there aren’t many cars as they drive down the highway. The sky is clear and the air is light when Tooru opens the window to wave his fingers through it.

“Why did you try to kill yourself, Kiyoomi-san?” Tooru asks and Atsumu eyes him as an unlit cigarette hangs from his lips.

Kiyoomi seems to be only half surprised at the question. He scrunches his nose as he looks down at the hands in his lap. His knuckles covered in cuts and blood that probably dried hours ago.

“And who did you kill, Oikawa?”

Atsumu grips the steering wheel when Tooru visibly tenses, fingers curling into a fist he rests against the window.

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“I know a murderer when I see one.”

“What the fuck do you know, huh?” Atsumu says, and he and Kiyoomi make eye contact through the rearview window.

“I didn’t kill him, alright?” Kiyoomi shuts his mouth when those words leave Tooru’s mouth. “It was self-defense.”

Atsumu trusts Tooru, trusts the way his lower lip trembles, and how tightly he shuts his eyes as if it will wipe all the memories of the previous night from his mind. He rests a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Radio plays a song Atsumu has heard in a club before, and he hums along to the familiar tune without being able to connect it to a certain name or title. Tooru cries in the front seat and Kiyoomi won’t stop cracking the joints of his wrists. Yokohama is near.

“I won’t tell you why I tried to kill myself,” Kiyoomi starts after the awkward atmosphere stretches out for too long and the sound of Tooru’s sobs becomes too uncomfortable to listen. “And I didn't even want to die like that. The city was almost empty, strangely, and then I heard your car and made a decision. I don't know why I did it. I didn't want it to happen like that and there.”

“Fuck,” Atsumu whispers and feels as if a knife splits his chest in half.

Kiyoomi’s eyes are wide and dark and it’s hard for Atsumu to tell if he’s in a constant state of inner pain or if he’s scared right now more than he has ever been.

“I’m still not sure if I’m glad that you hit me so hard I passed out and that you two practically kidnapped me. There was always a part of me that believed the future is something to live for. As ridiculous as it can be, this could be a sign.”

Tooru and Atsumu turn to face each other at the same time.

“You’re gonna be so fucking glad it was us in this car, I promise you that. Just wait,” Tooru says, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, and just so you know, this is not even my car.”

“What?” Tooru and Kiyoomi say at the same time and Atsumu throws his head back, laughing.

“I stole it,” he shrugs.

“Jesus…”

“It’s a good car.” Tooru nods, looking around as if he didn’t spend at least three hours in this car.

“Listen to me, now,” Atsumu says, “It’s a fucking miracle that we met, because otherwise, at least two of us would’ve been dead by now...”

“Wait,” Tooru cuts him off, raising a hand, “Who’d survive?”

“Me, of course. I told you, I have experience with this.”

Tooru opens his mouth to continue but Atsumu shuts his mouth with a hand over his lips.

“Let me continue. We’re going to Yokohama, when we get some money there, the entire country awaits, alright? I don’t know what it is that made you come along, but we’re gonna escape from all of it.”

Both Kiyoomi and Tooru stare at him for a few moments too long and Atsumu can’t help the way the tips of his ears turn red. Did he say something wrong? Was that completely discouraging?

Then he notices that Kiyoomi nods, and that’s probably the highest form of approval he will ever receive from him. Tooru smiles so wide and his glossy eyes look even prettier than the previous night when he laid under Atsumu.

“I could kiss you right now.”

“You haven’t known him for one full day.”

“I could kiss you, too, Omi-san.”

“Please don’t.”

Tooru laughs so carefreely and loud like they aren’t miles away from their home with barely any money and no clothes. But then Atsumu joins him, because home is where the pain is, and he isn’t sure if either of them can bear it any longer.

_iii._

In Yokohama, Atsumu parks the car at a random parking lot somewhere deep in the city. Kiyoomi is rather disappointed to find out that they will have to use public transport.

“Do we just plan on dragging that thing through the metro?” Tooru asks as they hover over the open trunk.

“Please don’t tell me we are traveling by metro,” Kiyoomi looks up at Atsumu who simply purses his lips in reply, leaning in to find the zipper of the suitcase.

“Taxi could be fine if it bothers you that much. But let’s see what’s in here first.”

He can feel the body heat coming from both of his sides as the other two lean over him, craning their necks to watch as Atsumu tugs on the zipper.

“Shit,” Tooru says, letting out a breathy laugh.

“You must be fucking with me,” Atsumu adds, fully revealing the stacks of bills neatly placed in five columns. He reaches out to feel the paper beneath his finger because it’s hard to believe his eyes aren’t deceiving him.

“What are we going to do with all that money?” Kiyoomi asks.

“I might have a few ideas,” Tooru says and Atsumu smiles wide.

Kiyoomi sighs, shaking his head. He steps away from the car.

“I think we should leave it. Whoever you stole that from is for sure going to look for it, and if they find it untouched they probably won’t bother to search for us, so let’s leave it.”

Atsumu nods. He is right. But he hasn’t once in his life done what was the smart decision. And he won't do it now, either.

“I agree, but we already stole it, the damage is done.”

“You stole it.”

Atsumu straightens up to walk over to Kiyoomi, raising a finger at him. “As much as I know, you are with me willingly, so I don’t see the problem here.”

“I am with you and that’s exactly why I’m trying to stop you from doing something you will regret.”

Atsumu grips the collar of his shirt, pulling him until their chests are pressed together. Tooru watches in amusement.

“Listen to me. What do you have to lose, huh? We left everything we have behind of us, there isn’t a single fucking thing we have besides this money. If you want to, you can go back to Tokyo right now, I won’t hold you back, but this is our one chance to enjoy this fucking life, don’t you get it?”

Kiyoomi wraps his fingers around Atsumu’s wrists and he could probably quite easily push him away, but he doesn’t.

“Do you have a family back there, Omi-san?”

Kiyoomi’s eyes fly to Tooru who watches the way he gulps with a tilted head.

“I don’t have anyone.” His words, quiet and fragile, eyes unsure as if he does, in fact, have someone back in Tokyo, but they’re the ones who don’t want him. Tooru wishes he could tell him he understands, but the words get stuck in his throat. “I just don’t want to go to jail or something.”

“Please don’t worry about it,” Tooru says, instead, “If the guy finds us we will threaten to tell his wife that he’s a cheating piece of shit. People who just carry around this amount of money can easily get it again, trust me, family and respect are what matters to them.”

Atsumu looks at Tooru and finds he can’t help the corner of his lips that tugs up.

“He’s right. But the guy won’t find us, we are smarter than that, aren’t we?”

Kiyoomi turns his head back to look down at Atsumu, hands flying to grab his shoulders as he pushes him away.

“Do something like that again and I’ll break your nose.”

Atsumu laughs but puts his hands up in defense. “I don’t doubt you will, hell.”

“Where will we go now?”

“I’m going to call a friend who’s gonna pick up the car. We’ve done this a thousand times, I steal a car that has a good resale value like this baby here does, and he doesn’t report me to the police because I sold coke to his kid that one time.”

“What the fuck.” Tooru gapes at him and Atsumu dismisses Kiyoomi’s judging stare with a wave of the hand.

“He’s a mechanic so it’s a perfect arrangement. He completely disassembles it and just gets rid of the plates. I owe him a shit ton.”

Kiyoomi sighs, shoulders dropping as if he’s finally decided to completely give up on Atsumu. Tooru says something along the lines of That’s pretty smart and Atsumu is already dialing his friend, who he refers to Kuroo as soon as the ringing stops.

Tooru drags the suitcase across the street with Atsumu by his side, and Kiyoomi walks one meter in front of them in a poor attempt of trying to make sure that no one thinks he’s with them. Atsumu teases him about it the entire time until they finally find a taxi.

“Royal park, please,” Atsumu says politely to the taxi driver, and Kiyoomi frowns.

“What? Why are we going there?”

Atsumu turns around to wink at Kiyoomi who sits in the backseat next to Tooru who doesn’t even know what place they are talking about but watches the skyscrapers they are surrounded by with glee written all over his face. Atsumu exhales as he stretches his legs out as much as he can in the front seat; driving was exhausting.

As they walk into the lobby of the five-star hotel, Tooru’s curious eyes drink in every single detail on the walls and the marble floors. Atsumu pinches his arm and tells him to at least act as if he owns the money inside the suitcase he’s been carrying around for the last hour.

“Good afternoon, Miya-san,” the woman at the reception greets him, her smile as warm and welcoming as ever, sometimes it even manages to make him feel bad about deceiving her for the nth time.

“Hey, Yachi-san. How have you been?” Atsumu rests his forearm over the reception, leaning in slightly, and the girl grips the edge of the wooden desk in front of her.

“Fine, you know, everything’s always the same around here. Would you like your usual room? A separate one for your friends?”

Atsumu grins. “No, just the usual, one night.”

Yachi eyes Tooru and Kiyoomi with a parted mouth, and when Kiyoomi raises a single, threatening eyebrow, she averts her gaze.

“Here’s your card. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you, Yachi-san,” Atsumu says, sends her a wink because he can and watches her as she melts onto the floor.

In the elevator, Kiyoomi refuses to lean against the wall like Tooru and Atsumu do on both of his sides, so he stands in the middle, hands on his hips while he stares at the elevator doors like it will burn holes through them.

“What floor are we on?”

“Seventieth.”

“Are you kidding? How do you manage to afford the most expensive room every time you come?”

“That’s not your problem to worry about, Omi-kun,” he says, and Tooru laughs at the nickname. “You’ll forget all about that as soon as you see where I’m taking you two.”

Atsumu doesn’t have a reason not to tell him that no one ever questions why he gets the room where the price of a single night is so high it would get an average person in Yokohama dizzy, all because the staff thinks that he is his twin brother, Miya Osamu, the owner of a chain of restaurants spread all over Eastern Asia. And for some strange reason that Atsumu refuses to recognize as inherent brotherly love, Osamu goes along with it and pays every single time the bill is sent to him. They never speak about it because honestly, it has happened only a few times before, but enough for the cute girl at the reception to remember his preference and for Atsumu to know his limits. In reality, he simply doesn’t like talking about his insanely successful brother. And they don't talk that much, anyway.

Atsumu lets Tooru unlock the door, swiping the card they were given over the metal door that opens all by themselves and then shuts after they enter the room.

“Oh my god, a jacuzzi?” Tooru shouts from another room and Atsumu laughs, eyes following Kiyoomi who walks straight to the wall made of windows. He stands only a few inches behind him.

“The view is beautiful. And it’s very clean.” Kiyoomi nods in approval, and Atsumu chuckles, leaning in to quietly speak into his ear.

“Neither of you deserve anything less.”

Kiyoomi’s eyes widen and Atsumu gives himself the right to dig his chin into his shoulder, but he keeps his hands locked behind his back, he doesn’t reach for his slender fingers and intertwine them with his own like he would were it Tooru that’s standing so, so close to him.

“How do you know what I deserve? You don’t even know me.”

Atsumu shrugs, gaze averted to the city that’s in front of them.

“I think you have been given the bare minimum in your life and you’ve gotten so used to it that you don’t know how big the world is, how much more you can have. It’s okay to be greedy,” Atsumu says, taking a step closer, almost hearing how Kiyoomi’s blood buzzes in his ears and the way he fights the curiosity mixed with excitement that tugs him to lean back, against Atsumu’s chest.

“You are the devil,” Kiyoomi says, and before Atsumu has the time to agree, a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and then Tooru is letting his chin rest on Kiyoomi’s other shoulder.

“Does that mean I’m the angel sitting on your shoulder, then?”

Kiyoomi lets his lips tug up into a small smile and Atsumu and Tooru decide to count it as their biggest achievement so far.

“Truth to be told, I’m not sure which one of you is worse.” Tooru pouts, and Kiyoomi grants him a few pats on the head which Atsumu considers absolutely unfair. “And to tell you honestly, Atsumu-san, it is difficult to believe you deserve any kind of luxury in this world when you have spent the majority of your life hating everything about yourself.”

Tooru hums, a smile that’s pressed into Kiyoomi’s shoulder and words that are muffled against the fabric of his hoodie, “It’s never too late to become aware of one’s worth. We are all faulty beings, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve the things that give us comfort and make the day worth going through. Because surviving isn’t living, that’s why people like us, when given the chance, deserve to be greedy.”

Tooru, arms warmly hanging around Atsumu’s waist and mouth pressed to Kiyoomi’s shoulder, speaks leisurely, as if just the sound of his voice is tacit enough and as if the Earth has stopped spinning for a moment. Kiyoomi and Atsumu find it easy to look at Tooru, but Tooru is facing the sun, so high in the sky but still visible to them only. It lights a spark in his eyes that has been kept restrained for all the years that have led up until this very moment.

“I think we should try the jacuzzi, now.”

Tooru turns around and walks across the room, Atsumu’s jacket falling down his bare arms and his jeans ending up on the floor when he pushes them past his hips. His legs are long and his skin is gorgeously illuminated by the afternoon sun, it’s almost hard to believe he was never surrounded by luxury, because in Atsumu’s eyes, it’s where he belongs.

“You wanna hop in, too?”

A few centimeters of height difference, Atsumu thinks about how he could easily cover it if he just raised to the tips of his toes and how silly the fact that he’s even thinking about it is.

“I think I’m going to shower, actually. I feel disgusting.” Kiyoomi’s entire body shivers and Atsumu tries not to laugh at the way his entire face twists like he’s in pain.

“Okay, but if you want to, though, “ a hand finds its way on the low of Kiyoomi’s back as Atsumu moves past him, “We will be waiting for you.”

_iv._

“That girl by the reception seemed to like you,” Tooru says, eyes heavy on Atsumu. He sips on a glass of champagne Atsumu has ordered, tongue swiping across pink lips. His arms hang off of the edge of the tub, back turned to him.

Atsumu wants to tease, so badly, but he’s impatient and starving.

“Too bad. I’m not really into women.”

Tooru chuckles, a noise so charming and alluring in a way that makes Atsumu know there’s no other choice when it comes to falling for this man. His hungry eyes and weak heart could never resist the temptation that is hot water bubbling around Oikawa Tooru’s bare back, strong muscles on display, all for him to feast on.

“Then what are you into?”

Tooru never turns around to look at him, but he places the glass onto the floor like he expects Atsumu to cross that minuscule space that separates them and give in the sensation that is the gentle slide of skin against skin. The water around him raises in temperature.

“I adore pretty little things like you.” A finger under Tooru’s chin, tilting his head around, just enough for Atsumu to press a kiss on his cheek, too tender for a pair of strangers. But Tooru laughs and his shoulders shake so it feels right. “It was nice. What you said to Sakusa.”

“I meant it. I’ve always sort of known that I could achieve big things if given the chance. But it was the people around me that didn’t allow me to work on my dreams. Everyone, including Kiyoomi-san and despite what he tells himself, has great potential. Don’t you think, Atsumu-san?”

“I think you have a way with words,” Atsumu replies, fingers kneading Tooru’s sides gently, and he hums in satisfaction when his thumbs press into his lower back. “And I agree with you, even though it might be a bit hard to believe in the reality of that at the moment. I’m a complete failure in the eyes of everyone.”

The curve of Tooru’s lips flattens, and he turns around in Atsumu’s arms, hands cupping his cheeks as if he’s something precious. Just the thought of it sounds ridiculous to him.

“You’re not a failure. I don’t know what it is that makes you feel that way, but look at you, look at us. You don’t know me and you’ve given me a whole new opportunity in life. You have a good heart.” Tooru drags the tip of his forefinger down Atsumu’s cheek, neck, and presses it into his chest.

“Thank you, but don’t say that in front of anyone else. I have a reputation to maintain,” Atsumu says, leaning in to graze his teeth against the spot where Tooru’s shoulder meets his neck.

Tooru laughs, pulling Atsumu in further with legs that wrap around his hips and hands that cling to his back.

“Tooru,” a warm breath over his throat, blunt nails digging into his thighs. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

Tooru wants so much, and Atsumu indulges him with a tongue that coaxes his lips to open gently, hands that spread his legs further and let him press their bodies flush together. Tooru isn’t ashamed of the heavy breaths that fill the room, of begging Atsumu to wrap his teasing fingers around his cock with eyes that look up at him through thick eyelashes and teeth that dig into his lower lip. Atsumu has always been obedient to the men that want to use him for their own pleasure.

He lets Tooru turn back around to grab his glass of champagne. He traces the lines of muscles in his back with the tip of his wet tongue, grips his hips, and pulls until his cock meets the gentle curve of Tooru’s ass. Atsumu grins at the sight of his fingers gripping the glass in his hand, lips parted as Tooru grinds against him.

“Please,” Atsumu whispers, lips dragging over the skin of Tooru’s shoulder as he covers his back with his chest, “I want you.”

“I’m yours for tonight.” Tooru’s voice, cheeky in a way Atsumu adores, he silences with his tongue and teeth.

“Do you plan on ever getting out of that?”

Tooru flinches at the sound of a voice that’s sudden but still doesn’t manage to shatter the atmosphere, and once he sees Kiyoomi leaning against the wall, he can’t help the corner of his lips that curls into an amused smile.

“Why don’t you join us?” Atsumu asks, lips brushing over Tooru’s nape.

“I would rather not,” Kiyoomi replies, arms crossed over his chest and a foot tapping against the floor, he looks down before he says, “Although, it is tempting.”

At first, Atsumu is taken back when Tooru nudges him away to get out of the tub, but as he watches him walk over to Kiyoomi, naked body completely on display as drops of hot water roll down his skin, he understands his wicked intentions.

Kiyoomi’s eyes are comically wide as he takes in the sight in front of him, Tooru not in the slightest bothered by the exposure. He tugs on the cotton belt of the bathrobe enveloping Kiyoomi’s body, not enough to untie it but enough for the latter to quiver.

“My eyes are up here, Kiyoomi-san,” Tooru says, his head tilted as he looks up at Kiyoomi innocently.

“I’m sorry,” Kiyoomi replies, taking a step back as Tooru moves forward, completely pinning him against the wall. “You have a nice body.”

Atsumu presses a palm over his mouth to stop himself from laughing. He’s torn between focusing on the way Kiyoomi’s cheeks are red or how good Tooru looks bare against him almost fully clothed.

“I know. You can touch me… if you want to.”

Kiyoomi’s hands curl into fists, his knuckles turning white.

“I do. But after you properly shower. Both of you.”

Atsumu is almost surprised when Kiyoomi mentions him, and waves of strange warmth rush through his chest. He grips the edge of the tub to get to his feet, and Kiyoomi inhales sharply as his eyes move toward the ceiling.

“How are you two so shameless?”

Atsumu gets close enough just to pull on Kiyoomi’s earlobe with his teeth and leave him breathless with a grin on his face. Tooru leans in to whisper, Wait for us on the bed, will you?

It takes all the patience in the world for Atsumu not to fuck Tooru against the cold tiles in the bathroom of their hotel room. Tooru insists on washing Atsumu’s body for him, and he simply signs himself up for free torture. Tooru’s hands are wandering and feel like electricity everywhere they touch. Atsumu refuses to acknowledge his teasing even when Tooru presses the palm of his hand against his erection, the glint in his eyes so prideful as if he’s thinking, I did this to you.

On the king-sized bed, Kiyoomi waits for them with an unfinished bottle of champagne, head resting against the pillows as his eyes roam through the city below them.

Tooru crawls between his legs over the deep blue sheets, letting the towel slide off of his hips in the process. He takes the bottle from Kiyoomi’s hands, tastes the sweet champagne off of his lips. Kiyoomi sighs into his mouth, fingers only slightly trembling as they dance over Tooru’s bare hips, uncertain.

“Touch me,” Tooru demands, lips trailing over Kiyoomi’s jaw.

Kiyoomi’s eyes are soft as the sun begins to settle. He touches Tooru as if he’s fragile. But Tooru is everything but that.

Atsumu joins them on the mattress that feels like a cloud beneath his weight. His hand trails over Kiyoomi’s bathrobe, pulling it apart just enough to graze his chest with the tips of his fingers.

“Can I kiss you?” Atsumu leans in, and when Kiyoomi tilts his head to face him, Atsumu’s nose brushes his cheek and he is the first one to go for it, capturing his lower lip between his own.

Kiyoomi’s tongue brushes over his teeth like he wants to taste the toothpaste he has just used, and he hums when his fingers thread through the wet strands of Atsumu’s hair.

“Omi-san, I want to take this off of you,” Tooru says, palms pressed to Kiyoomi’s chest as he straddles him, hips moving in small circles as if he simply can’t resist.

Kiyoomi leans back to meet Tooru’s eyes, and something in Atsumu’s gut twists when he sees him gulp.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to do this.”

“I do. It’s okay. I want you.”

Atsumu can’t help smiling into the next kiss, swallowing each of Kiyoomi’s gasps as Tooru lets the bathrobe pool by his sides. Tooru drags his hands over Kiyoomi’s chest, mouth agape as if he discovered the eighth wonder of the world. Kiyoomi’s stomach is soft when Tooru bends to press a kiss into his skin, and his nipples are hard when Atsumu rolls each of them between his fingers.

“I have never done this before,” Kiyoomi says, chest heaving as he tries to stabilize his breathing. Both Atsumu and Tooru look up at him, shock and curiosity written all over their faces, but neither says a word. “I’ve never trusted anyone enough.”

“You trust us?” Atsumu asks.

“Strangely, I do.” Kiyoomi cups Tooru’s cheek and it’s the first time Atsumu sees him flush, leaning into the touch. “We are similar in a way, but even with those things that differentiate us and that you don’t understand, you don’t judge. I appreciate that.”

“You’re so sweet, Kiyoomi,” Tooru says, littering short kisses all over Kiyoomi’s palm.

Atsumu’s lips settle on his cheek and they drag over reddened skin as he whispers, “We’ll make you feel good.”

Good means different things for each of them. For Atsumu, it’s wiping the tears that roll down Kiyoomi’s cheeks with his thumbs, it’s welcoming him into his arms once he breaks. For Tooru, it’s finding Kiyoomi’s breaking point. He begins with fingers digging into the flesh of Kiyoomi’s chest as he sinks down on him, eyes shut and lips twisted into a wide smile as he exhales softly. Atsumu brushes the strands of hair that fall over his forehead and whispers, Do you like that?

Kiyoomi isn’t sure what feeling good means exactly. Though, the tremble of his body when Tooru tips him over the edge and Atsumu presses his lips to his own to drown the whimpers that escape his mouth might be the first time he has ever experienced overwhelming pleasure and the greed for more that comes along with the first taste of heavenly wonders.

Tooru lets Atsumu fuck him into the mattress, and Kiyoomi watches with a lazy hand wrapped around himself, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. But he still keeps his gaze on them, on the curve of Tooru’s back and the muscles of Atsumu’s thighs flexing.

Atsumu presses a kiss into Tooru’s shoulder blade, and Tooru reaches out to grip Kiyoomi’s hand when he comes. Kiyoomi wonders if that was a form of love, but then again, he has never witnessed such a thing.

“Why don’t we leave the country?” Tooru asks once a dark cloak settles over the city.

“And go where, exactly?” Kiyoomi says, his head resting on Tooru’s chest as he lets him scratch his scalp with caring fingertips.

Tooru doesn’t reply for a while, he only hums, eyes roaming the ceiling of their hotel room like it’s a world map.

“Argentina, let’s go to Argentina.”

Let’s find happiness there.

Atsumu sits on the edge of the mattress, a cigarette between his parted lips.

“It’s hot there.”

“Well, my skin could certainly use some sunlight. Don’t you think, Atsumu?”

He turns around to welcome the sight of Tooru’s spread legs, body outlined by ruffled sheets. His fingers, gentle in Kiyoomi’s damp curls.

“I think your skin is already perfect.”

“You’re irresistibly sweet. People probably just let you rob them.”

Kiyoomi grins, digging his toes into Atsumu’s thigh. “You look like you steal your one night stand’s wallet after they fall asleep.”

Atsumu smiles, leaving the finished cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand. He lies on his front next to Kiyoomi and drags a finger over his bare chest.

“Good thing you two are practically broke, then. Nothing to steal from either of you.”

That night, Osamu calls him, and Atsumu takes out his sim card and flushes it down the drain.

Tooru seems to have been daydreaming a lot during the past years because he easily fills up the silence of the night shared between them with words that expose to them an entirely new world filled with countless possibilities. Kiyoomi smiles but he never says those are nothing but childish fantasies because all he has ever wanted was to be free and it has seemed so unimaginable. Until now.

Atsumu doesn't think much about the future. He grounds himself to the present moment in which he’s safe in Tooru’s arms, caressed by Kiyoomi’s warm breath spilling over his shoulder.

Atsumu finally feels the love in his veins, the light in his eyes. It threatens to swallow him whole, but he has never wanted to let go more.

**Author's Note:**

> hope this was nice  
> i put a big part of myself into this one


End file.
